A Precious Long While
by Pyrex Shards
Summary: Chapter 2 now up! In her junior year, Helga is still obsessed with Arnold. How will she cope when something changes about Arnold that is so fundamental she cannot ignore it?
1. Prologue

A Precious Long While

Story by Pyrex Shards  
Pre-read by Lord Malachite

Prologue – Strawberry Milkshake

Gerald Johansen sat in the corner booth of Big Al's Tasty Cafe with his head resting against his right hand, staring intently at the cheeseburger, fries, and Yahoo cola that he had ordered barely five minutes ago. Outside the window, every now and then, there was a white fleck of snow falling all by itself, the humble beginnings of a snowstorm. There was not much traffic into Big Al's on a Sunday night, even more so with snow on the way. So this was the perfect place to hide out.

Gerald was hiding from his family. _No, not hiding,_ Gerald thought to himself, curling his mouth downward into a soft frown. _More like trying to preserve my sanity. _Earlier in the night a word was said from Timberly to their father. That word got a strong response from their father and pretty much the entire night went downhill from there.

This was becoming a common occurrence. Timberly was becoming a pro at arguing, almost as good as her dad, who was the undefeated king of arguments. Their mom, on the other hand, was a great referee, emphasis on _was_. It was this night, when their mom decided to join in on the argument, that Gerald decided to make a hasty retreat to Big Al's for a cheeseburger and some quiet time before another week of school.

"Gerald?" a soft, mousy like voice, a voice he instantly recognized as that of an angel, inquired of him.

Gerald looked up from staring at his cheeseburger to see Phoebe looking at him from the side of the seat opposite his. "Hey Phoebe. What's up?" Gerald inquired of the girl, while actively trying to keep his voice above a certain pitch. It always seemed to go a bit lower when Phoebe was around.

His attempt didn't stop Phoebe from blushing mildly, however. This had been a game of theirs for a precious long while. A romance of endless flirting, never going anywhere. Both of them had grown accustomed to it. It had become second nature. "Mind if I join you? It doesn't make sense if two acquaintances are sitting in this diner alone."

Gerald made a half-hearted gesture to the seat in front of him, trying to avoid the light-headed dreamlike trance that Phoebe's presence always seemed to induce. "Sure Phoebe... I could use the company"

Phoebe took off the heavy powder blue coat she was wearing, and then sat down on the seat right in front of Gerald.

Her actions gave Gerald a bit of time to pay attention to the high school junior that Phoebe had become. Her trademark glasses hadn't changed one bit for as long as he could remember. It was almost as if the manufacturer knew she liked them, and kept them in stock just for her. She still wore something akin to her blue shirt and powder blue knee-length skirt of years gone by. Because it was cold out she had on a light blue sweater and powder blue slacks. In fact there was no mistaking what Phoebe's favorite color was. Gerald didn't mind one bit.

He also didn't mind that Phoebe had acquired some curves in all the right places. He noticed Phoebe's blush and looked down at his burger again. Her blush was cute, that was for sure. One of the many things he liked about her. He could almost get her to blush on command. He gathered some strength again and looked up at his dinner companion.

The waiter on duty came up to the booth. "What would you like, miss?"

Phoebe wasted no time, smiling and answering with almost practiced precision. "A turkey sandwich with everything on it, and a Yahoo soda please."

The waiter jotted the order down and smiled at the girl, "coming right up" he said, then turned around and proceeded towards the kitchen.

Phoebe paused for a moment, the cold of the air outside had tinged her cheeks a slight shade of red. She put her hands up to her cheeks to warm them while looking at Gerald and smiling.

Phoebe was an Asian-American girl from Kentucky. Her skin tone hadn't changed much since they first met, uniquely Caucasian with a hint of an Asian hue to it. Her eyes had for the most part stayed the same but her glasses betrayed their beauty. Gerald fancied a time when he could remove her glasses, taking in the sight of those deep, blue, Japanese-almond but uniquely Kentuckian eyes, unmarred by the frames she wore.

"So what brings you to Big Al's?" Gerald asked. He shook his head slightly to clear out the lingering thoughts weighing his head down, and went at his hamburger with gusto.

"Nothing really. Just wanted to go out for a bit. Mom and Dad had some errands to run so I decided to come here instead of cooking at home."

"I hee". Phoebe smiled at Gerald's muffled response as he chewed on a piece of cheeseburger. It was Phoebe's turn to notice the guy that Gerald had become. He wore a simple red t-shirt with a big white thirty-three written on it, along with his slightly worn blue-jeans. It was all uniquely Gerald. She imagined Gerald looking through his wardrobe in the mornings, searching amongst the red t-shirts with white thirty-three's, pondering over which one to wear; a little joke she shared with none but herself.

She noted, as she always did, how his brown eyes matched the coffee color of his skin. In fact, she could almost smell that pleasant aroma of the French roast that her mother and father enjoyed so much after dinner. Even though the scent was imagined, it made Gerald even more surreal for her, more unnatural. He did not have the completely athletic build that his brother did in High School, from what Phoebe remembered of his brother, but she also didn't care in the slightest. He wasn't large by any means, but he had just enough fat to accent his face. Phoebe loved that.

The way he acted around her most times, when he wasn't so obviously melting at the sight of her, made her giddy in such a way that she had to fight to control herself. Of course this is something she dared not speak of to anyone, for it was part of an endlessly running game between the two. A game of flirting, almost like chicken, to see who would flinch first. Of course, every now and then they'd walk each other home, flirtatiously holding each other's hands. But it never came to anything other than a deep, unspoken, unrealized romance between the two. Phoebe thought of it as game of chess caught in a stalemate.

Gerald finished his bit of cheeseburger with a swig of Yahoo soda. "I came here to get out of the house. My sister got into a fight with my father again over something stupid. In fact I don't even know what they were fighting about this time. It changes every time so I don't keep track anymore."

The waiter came to the table with a plate and soda in hand. "Here we go miss. One turkey sandwich and a Yahoo soda."

Phoebe looked at the waiter and said a cheerful "thank you" to the him before looking back at Gerald. She paused, then responded. "I'm sorry to hear that." Phoebe took a little bite of her turkey sandwich, chewed, and swallowed before continuing. "I don't have any siblings so I don't know what it's like"

"For the most part it's enjoyable, until something sets off the arguments. I love Timberly, I just don't think we can live under the same roof anymore."

At Phoebe's nod of understanding Gerald couldn't help but grin inwardly. He had to fight back the comment, '_I'm sure I could live under the same roof with you Phoebe.'_ His face betrayed his thoughts, however, as Phoebe could see he was giving her that dreamy stare that he was so good at. She looked down at her sandwich. "I don't get into fights with my parents but we don't see eye to eye on some things. I guess it's all generational differences."

"Yeah..." Gerald let his voice trail off a bit into dreamland, before catching up. "I mean yes. I agree. This one time, Timberly wanted to wear this dress of hers to a school dance, and my parents wouldn't have anything of it. She insisted so much, but the school dance was a day later, so the next day Timberly couldn't find the dress. Our parents had hidden it somewhere then pleaded the fifth. That happened two years ago. She still can't find it!"

"Oh my." Phoebe said with a giggle as she covered her mouth in an attempt to prevent breadcrumbs from falling out. After the fit of giggling subsided, she picked up her soda and took a swig to wash down the sandwich.

After Gerald's story, the two ate in silence, exchanging glances and giggling at the mental image of a distressed Timberly running through Gerald's house trying to track down a dress.

"Well, that meal is done for." Gerald said as he patted his stomach. Phoebe nodded as she finished off her last bite of turkey sandwich along with her soda.

"I agree, that was good." She said, smiling at Gerald, slightly lethargic from the meal.

"The night's still young, my dear. Care for some desert before we end the night's festivities?" Gerald said in a mock gentleman's accent.

"Of course we shall, good sir!" Phoebe played along, trying to keep from giggling too much.

Shortly after, the waiter came by to pick up the empty plates. "Would you two like some desert?" He asked cheerfully.

"A strawberry milk... shake..." they both said in unison. There was a very quiet pause as the pair looked into each other's eyes.

The waiter just shrugged at the silence between the two. "One milkshake and two straws coming up." He walked away to make the milkshake.

"Phoebe, is this a date?" Gerald asked after a long pause, his voice a whisper so as to keep the conversation as quiet as possible. He continued staring into Phoebe's eyes. Snow started to fall outside.

"Yes. I think it is Gerald" Phoebe didn't blush, she just continued staring into Gerald's eyes.

Phoebe moved her left hand to rest between the two. Gerald did the same with his left hand, and put his fingers over hers. With a slight motion of their wrists, they intertwined their fingers.

The stalemate ended as each chess player noticed the opening.

End Prologue

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The Author's Corner

First off let me just say that I am new to the Hey Arnold series and its associated fanfic community. This is not a plea for you to go easy on me however, as I have written fanfics in the past. I won't be offended if you find something wrong with my story. This is just the prologue so it's going to be shorter than the actual chapters. While this story is actively beta read, I'll never know how the fans will react until I actually release material. In other words, since I am posting this I am asking for it, so lay it on me!

In the interest of full disclosure, I'm placing this story in a metaverse created by my friend Lord Malachite with his story Instant Gratification. This of course has his full blessing or else I wouldn't have done it. I highly recommend that you read Instant Gratification because it is an awesome story, but it is in no way a prerequisite to reading my story. IG is more of a guidepost or anchor on which my story stays afloat. There will be subtle references to IG but they will in no way spoil the story for you should you decide to read it.

I intend to post an update to this story every other week. I'd try to increase my schedule to a weekly release but this is an ambitious project for me (my previous works are all single chapter short stories). By ambitious I mean, "I can't believe I am embarking upon this project, what's wrong with me?" So I don't want to burn myself.

All questions, comments, criticisms, and other forms of verbal abuse should be directed at my e-mail address available in my profile, or in the review section. You may also contact me via my AIM screen name: The Robonerd.

Peace out.

05/31/2008


	2. First Date Redux

A Precious Long While

Story by Pyrex Shards

Pre-read by Lord Malachite

Chapter 1 – First Date, Redux

High school in winter can be a quiet, bittersweet affair some days. Our high school years are stuck somewhere between childhood and adulthood; we are expected to be mature while being forced to contemplate the childhood we are leaving behind. It does nothing to mitigate the impact of attending classes while there's two feet of perfectly white snow outside. To make matters worse, it was the perfect kind of snow. Not the quickly melting and soggy sort, but more like the slightly melting, great for packing together kind. The perfect powder for snowballs or snowmen, or even a snow fort.

Unfortunately, it was also the kind of snow to which the snowplows made light work. One could imagine the drivers laughing as they started with the school block first, knowing that this would wreck the possibility of staying home. Juniors in high school are not supposed to think of such things. Snow days are supposed to be left to the elementary and middle school kids to dream about. This did not stop some from stealing sideways glances at the snow outside the school windows, risking a stern look from the teacher while daydreaming of building the perfect snowball to lob at a friend, or well placed enemy.

The scene is set for the first chapter of the story, in which Phoebe Heyerdahl stood at her open locker daydreaming while trying to think of which books she would need to take home for homework. Phoebe was not daydreaming of snow, curiously enough, but daydreaming of something else entirely as she stared into her locker. It was the cleanest and most pristine locker in the whole school, save for one picture of her family placed on the inside of the door with a Yahoo Cola fridge magnet, tilted clockwise at a forty-five degree angle so as not to look placed intentionally, but as an afterthought. Unfortunately for Phoebe this left her unable to see her best friend coming up to her on the other side of her locker door.

"So spill it Pheebs." Phoebe leaned away from her locker and looked around the door at Helga with a startled expression. Before Her, Helga Pataki stood, grinning, arms crossed. Words did not need to convey exactly what Helga was inquiring about, in her own special way. They were not needed. It didn't take long that morning for Helga to deduce something was up with her best friend. The signs were there, and Helga read them with ease.

"Helga..." Phoebe said, realizing she had to choose her words carefully. "What…ever…are you talking about?"

"Oh you know what I'm asking about Phoebe, in fact I think the whole school has noticed."

Phoebe shook her head, feigning ignorance, though being a poor actor.

"Criminey Pheebs, do I need to list it for you?! Okay. First off, you showed up this morning a few minutes later than usual. For a girl who shows up promptly at the same time each morning, 8 AM sharp by the way, that's definitely a sign that something's up."

"I, uhh... Had something to take care of at home. Heh heh heh." Phoebe laughed nervously. Helga had noticed her unusual tardiness. For anyone who knew Helga's observant nature this was not unusual. She was the one who stood up in P.S. 118's "after school club" and turned it into "Helga's Comedy Club", pointing out personality quirks of every single person in her class. Pointing out things that no one else noticed.

"Not only did you show up five minutes late," Helga continued after allowing Phoebe a brief moment of silence, "but I could also detect a slight whiff or, how should I say, eau de perfume." At that Helga put an index finger and thumb up to her chin in mock contemplation. "Oh and there's the unmistakable fact that you had a dreamy look on your face all of fourth period. So let's see. There are a few boys in fourth period sitting in the direction you were looking. It couldn't be Harold or Sid. Sid isn't your type and heaven forbid Harold."

Phoebe looked down, pivoting her left foot on her toe.

"That leaves Brainy and--"

"I had a date last night with Gerald Johanssen" Phoebe stated matter-of-factly, cutting off Helga's train of thought. Better just admit it than let Helga arrive at it. Phoebe stopped moving her foot and looked up at Helga. "But, it's a secret Helga, we can't let anyone know right now." Phoebe reached for her heavy coat, hung on the hook towards the back of the locker.

Helga's harsh grin softened a bit at Phoebe's admission. "So that's who it is."

That Phoebe and Gerald had a thing for each other was a known fact to anyone who took a minute to consider that the two had paired up with each other occasionally for class projects and such. Of course Gerald paired up more often with Arnold but it was still unmistakable that Gerald considered Phoebe a preferred alternate, that is when Phoebe hadn't paired up with Helga. There was that time when all four had paired up to do a diorama of the Louis and Clark expedition. Helga had spent most of that project torturing Arnold in various ways, but Gerald's soft expressions as he looked at Phoebe across from the cluster of desks, and Phoebe's unmistakable blush as she looked down at her part of the project, did not escape Helga's observation. A series of observations between her verbal exchange with Arnold of course.

Helga turned towards her locker and started idly manipulating the lock in a practiced motion. "So why the secrecy Pheebs? Everyone in school knows that Geraldo looks at you with a 'hey baby' kind of expression and you stare back all mushy, with a blush that could be used to tune a television set if this happened to be some kind of lame TV show." Down the hallway, the band was practicing with the band room door open, one of the drummers was warming up and decided to do a rim shot for the hell of it.

"We don't want it to be a secret, we just don't know how our parents would react." Phoebe shut her locker, a healthy stack of books in hand topped off with her trade-mark notepad, and spun the combination lock around once for good measure. Helga did the same after putting on her coat, and at once they were walking down the long hallway towards the entrance of the school.

"Why are you worried about that?"

"My parents don't know about Gerald, and Gerald's parents don't know about me. We're kind of worried about the fact that..." Phoebe tried to pick the words that were the most comfortable for the situation.

"You're a little bit country, he's a little bit rock and roll?" Helga chided.

Phoebe rolled her eyes. "Yes, Helga. I don't know how my parents will react because I've never had the opportunity to know how they feel about that sort of thing. And I'm at a loss about how Gerald's family would feel." The pair didn't say anything as they walked around a group of girls huddled around Rhonda Loyd, gossiping about something most likely trivial, Helga would have assumed with a scowl, if she wasn't deep in thought about Phoebe's situation.

Helga glanced sideways at Phoebe and noted the look of worry behind her trademark glasses, her apparent lack of awareness of the people around her. She bumped into someone standing in front of a drinking fountain, apologized with the word "sorry" several times while making a slight bow, then continued walking. '_better shift the conversation before she hurts herself_' Helga thought.

"So what did you do on your first date?" Helga abruptly asked. "And don't skimp on the details, sister."

"We shared a milkshake at Big Al's."

Helga tried desperately to stifle a blush--she had dreams of doing the same thing with Arnold It was a fleeting dream though, filed away with all of her other dreams about the football headed boy that occupied her life in so many ways. Helga realized she was blushing a bit and staring off into dreamland. She shook her head back to the present. "That's all?! Anything else?! A movie? Or the arcade? Or something even? Criminey, Phoebe, give me something to work with here!"

"No. We just sat in the cafe and talked." Phoebe sighed, smiling.

"Sheesh, that's not much of a date Pheebs. You gotta go do other things. Miniature golf, a boat ride in the park, going to a romantic movie and sharing a bag of popcorn while leaning against him and pretending like you are the ones in the movie." Helga blushed a bit while staring off into space a second time, a violin could be heard in the distance, most likely from the band room.

"Helga?" Phoebe inquired of her friend. This behavior was not necessarily odd given that Helga could be caught swooning every now and then.

Helga shook her head again to force herself back to the present. "Nothing Pheebs, sorry. So are you going on another date?" They stopped at the front door to the school and stared out at the snow covered world outside, save for the sidewalks and street, cursed be those who invented the snow plow.

Phoebe looked outside, not at anything in particular. "I don't know. I want to. We had a great time last night. But…" The petite girl trailed off.

"But what? Go to the arcade, play some skeeball, let him win you a teddy bear!"

The mental image that Helga offered Phoebe was too irresistible for her to pass up. "That sounds nice. Thank you Helga."

"Any time kiddo. By the way, ready?" Helga tightened her coat, guessing at the speed of the chilled wind outside. Phoebe did the same.

"Ready."

"Go!" they both said in unison as they opened the door and made for the bus that had pulled up outside.

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"So you finally went on a real date with Phoebe. It took you long enough." Arnold teased.

"It didn't start out as a date." Gerald corrected while reclining back.

They were both in Arnold's bedroom. Arnold lay on his bed while Gerald had scoped out the couch. They were both laying down in their respective locations, staring up at the blue sky through the skylight. The snow had melted almost completely away from the skylight due to the heat from the building, but there was some wet snow straggling around some of the corners of the window panes. Every now and then a gust of wind picked up a fine dusting of snow and blew it across the skylight. The snow dust reflected the sunlight in odd patterns of bright white as the sun started its descent down the western horizon.

On Arnold's computer desk lay a stack of papers, homework from their chemistry class. While Arnold and Gerald didn't have the teacher in the same period, he had given virtually identical assignments. Hence the "reason" Gerald was over at Arnold's on a Monday night. In truth Gerald was there for advice of a more pressing type of chemistry.

"So now you need advice on what you should do for another date." Arnold stated.

"Bingo!" Gerald said, exasperation clear in his voice. "Yesterday I had no plans to date Phoebe. I woke up, brushed my teeth, didn't think about Phoebe at all. The entire day Phoebe wasn't on my mind. And now suddenly because we happen to be at Big Al's at the same time and order the same desert, poof, we're dating." Gerald brought his hands up to his temples and rubbed them profusely.

"It sounds like destiny to me." Arnold stated, smiling. This wasn't the worse kind of predicament his friend could be in. But when it came down to it, yes, it was sudden enough to cause a case of mental whiplash for Gerald. Gerald and Phoebe's constant flirting had finally done them in. Arnold found the situation humorous for exactly that reason. Now suddenly Gerald had a girlfriend and needed advice on what to do for a real date.

"What kind of dates do you and Rhonda go on?" Gerald asked, deflecting Arnold's second verbal jab of the evening. "And yes I know you could have predicted Phoebe and me without a crystal ball."

"Oh. The usual stuff. Movies, dinner..." What Arnold decided not to mention was the fact that because he was dating Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, dates took on a whole new meaning. The dinners were at the more upper class restaurants and the movies were at the expensive AMC theater in uptown Hillwood, complete with stadium seating and the ideal sized bags of popcorn. Rhonda always insisted that she'd pay for it all. Arnold would attempt to pay out of guilt and Rhonda would swoon about how romantic Arnold was being, all while handing the waiter a credit card.

"Yeah, but, what kind of dinner and what kind of movies? Give me something more to work with!" Arnold winced, Gerald pulled no punches.

First off the easy response. "Girls love chick-flicks. The best thing to do is let them pick and don't argue. Try not to roll your eyes or anything that looks like you object to their choice. Girls can sense these things."

"What about dinner?" Gerald pressed on.

Arnold sighed. "I'll level with you. Rhonda picks the restaurants. I have no idea what formula she uses but I've never found cause to object. She always seems to pick the right one for the occasion. You may want to talk it over with Phoebe. If she has a place she would like to go, go there. And offer to pay!"

Gerald nodded. Dinner and a movie would work. In fact dinner and a movie was generic date _numero uno_, tried, proven, and guaranteed to work out barring major disasters such as fire and flood. The possibility of a couple of hours in a theater with Phoebe resting her head against his shoulder could possibly make a chick-flick tolerable. There was one more thing though, something that Gerald had worried about for a long time and now that Phoebe was his girlfriend, it reared its ugly head again.

"You're silent all of the sudden. Worried about something else?" Arnold asked.

"Yeah." Gerald averted his eyes from the skylight and stared off into space. "I don't think Phoebe's parents know about us yet, and neither do my parents. I want to tell them but I'm worried about how I should tell them. I also worry about Phoebe's parents, how are they going to react to us because...well.."

"You're R&B and she's country?" Arnold offered.

"Are you sure you're not a psychologist?" Gerald joked, then continued. "I'm not supposed to worry about things like that, but in this case I just don't know enough about Phoebe's parents and it's bothering me. Phoebe decided not to tell her parents until we're solid. I'm doing the same thing with my parents. I'm just worried about when they find out and how."

"_Carpe diem_." Arnold said in response.

"Say what?" Gerald asked, looking at his friend and arcing and eyebrow.

"It means 'seize the day'. Don't worry about that right now. Just enjoy going on a date with Phoebe." The phone rang beside Arnold's bed, but he opted not to answer it. After a few rings it stopped.

Then after a few moments his grandfather announced the caller and the intended party from the floor below. "Hey Shortman! It's your girlfriend!"

Arnold put his hand over his face. "I wish he wouldn't do that." This prompted a fit of silent laughter from Gerald. Arnold reached over to his phone and picked it up. "Hey Rhonda... Bye Grandpa... How are you?... I'm fine. Friday? What time? Sure, I'll be there at six o'clock."

Arnold looked over at Gerald smiled, then continued. "Hey, what would you say to a double-date?" Gerald quickly sat up on the couch and looked at Arnold, mouth agape. "Gerald's over here and. Yes. Phoebe. Of course. They need some coaching... Yes... Yes... Thank you so much Rhonda, you're the best. Sure thing. I'll do that. I'll see you at school tomorrow. Bye." Arnold hung up the phone.

"Did I just hear what I think I heard?" Gerald crossed his arms.

"You and Phoebe have got an all expense paid appointment with Rhonda Lloyd, international dating expert, at Pomodori's Italian Restaurant at six o'clock on Friday night. If you're interested, of course. She also said dress in your best attire should you decide to attend."

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"Dinner with Rhonda and Arnold?" Phoebe said with a noticeable look of concern. She closed her locker and spun the combination lock, then turned to face her boyfriend. They conveniently shared the first lunch period while most of their friends had been stuck with the second.

"Yeah. Some Italian place called Pulman Doris, or I think that's what it's called. It's completely voluntary." Gerald put a hand on Phoebe's shoulder. "We don't have to go if you don't want to."

"I want to go. It's just, Rhonda knows about us?" Phoebe whispered.

Gerald leaned in and whispered back. "I think it's safe to say that if Rhonda Lloyd knows then the entire school probably knows. We're the premiere gossip subject of this week."

Phoebe looked around to make sure no one was around close enough to hear. "I don't want my parents to know just yet. They might find out especially if I go out on Friday night with you. My mom would be okay with it, but my dad. Phoebe lowered her eyes. I just don't think my dad would be party to the idea of me dating just yet, among other things. But I have told you all this already."

Gerald moved his right hand down Phoebe's arm and grasped her hand in between both of his. "Hey girl, _carpe diem_. We'll just say that Rhonda invited a bunch of people out on Friday night to celebrate a week before Christmas break. Just a little pre-Christmas party. That sounds legit enough to be true. Arnold will be there and they have no idea that Arnold and Rhonda are an item."

"Do you really think that will work?" Phoebe looked into Gerald's eyes for a moment. Gerald did the same.

"I don't know. But it's worth it for you, Phoebe." Gerald's words struck a chord in Phoebe's heart and she smiled at Gerald. She stood on toe, leaned in, and kissed Gerald on the cheek briefly.

Phoebe turned her head to the side and tried to stifle a blush, while Gerald held a hand up to his cheek, trying to capture the slightly cold sensation where her lips had been for just a little bit longer. _She kissed me_ he thought, _she really kissed me_.

Phoebe waited a second for her heart to slow down in time with her breath. "I'll see you Friday evening, then."

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School on Friday went off without a hitch, mostly because everyone was ready for the weekend. Also due to the anticipation of one last week of school before two weeks of vacation. That was enough to make any school kid giddy with excitement. Phoebe Heyerdahl was excited as well, but not because it was Friday, but more because she was standing in front of the mirror in her bathroom, checking out the outfit she had selected and was now wearing for the nights double-date with Gerald, Arnold, and Rhonda. Her thoughts hung on what Gerald would think of the outfit she decided to wear. It was a modest navy-blue dress, not very low cut and with shoulder length straps. The dress itself went down to just below her kneecaps. She opted not to wear high heels but instead chose black dress shoes and knee length black socks. Her hair was in its usual style, but to be sure it stayed that way she indulged in a little bit of hairspray.

Giggling a bit, she twirled around and admired her handiwork. "Gerald my dear, what do you think?" She squealed in joy as she asked the mirror. She leaned back a bit to accentuate her chest. While she was as pretty average girl in school, she didn't mind. Gerald didn't seem to mind, she had even caught him staring every now and then. So this was going to be fun.

"You won't know what hit you."

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"Man Arnold, these duds are slick! Phoebe is really going to blush when she sees this!" Gerald stood in front of the mirror attached to the closet door of Arnold's room. He had on a navy blue shirt with a red tie. The tie itself had little thirty three's in white all over it, a gift to him from his dad, who never owned up to where he had found the tie.

Gerald's slacks were black in color. He wore black socks and black dress shoes. His clothing was neatly pressed, he had ironed everything three times so that there were no wrinkles at all. _What was it they said 'bout a sharp dressed man?_ Gerald thought inwardly.

"You really look good." Arnold said, nodding in agreement.

"Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself." Gerald observed.

Arnold had on something equally striking. Red dress shirt, white tie, complete with white slacks and black shoes. His hair was combed back, and he had opted to leave his hat off for the night, though Gerald did notice something a tad off. "Hey, how come I've never seen you wearing anything like that before, they look good but... Did Rhonda pick those out for you?"

"Yeah." Arnold sat down on his couch, crossing a leg. "I took Rhonda out shopping for clothes. Actually, Rhonda took me out shopping for clothes. She insisted. She told me to wear this tonight, so I am."

Gerald arched an eyebrow. "She pushing you around?"

Arnold laughed. "No, she actually asked me what I wanted her to wear tonight. She then told me to wear this. We picked the clothing out together."

"Let me get this straight. Rhonda asked you what you wanted her to wear tonight, and she told you what she wanted you to wear. The richest girl in school let you pick out her clothing for this date." The more Gerald learned of Rhonda and Arnold's relationship the more they seemed like the perfect match. For any boy to be able to tell the richest and most popular girl in school what to wear, that was unheard of.

"Yes." Arnold answered, looking at the clock on his wall. "It's five fifteen. We'd better be going if we want to be at Pomodori's by six."

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Pomodori's was situated in the business district of downtown Hillwood, in the basement of an old but well-maintained building. The only marker of the restaurant's presence was a simple black awning with the word "Pomodori's" printed in it in white cursive lettering. The awning stood over a door, mostly glass, though framed with a rich colored wood. The entire restaurant looked hidden away from anyone not paying attention, one of Hillwood business district's little secrets to those who didn't think to ask what restaurants were around that served authentic Italian.

Arnold and Gerald both did a double-take in unison as they stepped off of the bus at the intersection, to be sure that they had the right intersection. "Rhonda got reservations for this?" Gerald exclaimed, his breath fogging the air in front of his face. "It doesn't even look like there's anything here!"

"Rhonda said her father was raving about this restaurant so she decided to try it out. This is new to all of us. Think of it as an adventure. Besides, she had to make reservations a week in advance to get a table for four. Not a bad choice for your first real date."

Gerald nodded slightly, still staring at the door to the restaurant. "It just looks kind of... kind of."

"Modest?" Arnold offered.

"Yeah, modest." Gerald accepted. "Let's get inside, it's cold out here." While both of them wore heavy coats Arnold's a light gray and Gerald's a light red, the cold breeze did nothing to help keep their hands and legs warm.

Arnold gestured for the door. "Shall we?" The pair walked towards the door. Arnold went in first. The door opened on well oiled hinges, not a sound even in the cold temperatures of the outside world. Behind the doors were a set of stairs covered in a dark red carpet leading down into a large lobby. Beyond that...

"Hi Arnold." Rhonda greeted them from the entrance to the lobby as they took the steps down one by one, holding the wooden rail. Arnold had a slight smile on his face as he took in the sight of Rhonda, Gerald was still looking around, as if trying to measure up the entire restaurant by its entrance. He stopped doing so when he finally noticed Rhonda.

Rhonda Wellington Lloyd wore a simple red dress, one that flowed down to her ankles. A simple white belt fit around her waist, clasped together by a thin silver buckle in the front. The dress was not very low cut, owing to the modesty of the person who chose it. Though it was obvious to Arnold that Rhonda had enhanced the dress a bit, the part above the belt seemed a little snugger than when Arnold remembered from her trying it on at the clothing store. White shoes and white gloves finished off the outfit. For jewelry Rhonda had picked out a simple gold necklace and diamond earrings that sparkled against her black hair, roughly in the same style that she had worn since Arnold could remember, uniquely Rhonda. She topped it all off with lipstick that seemed to match the dress perfectly, and compliment the smile she gave Arnold as he approached her and took her hands in his.

"You look great Rhonda." He said as he gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

"You don't look so bad yourself." Rhonda returned the compliment as she looked her boyfriend over.

"Wow, you guys almost look like twins." Gerald noted, Arnold turned to Gerald, with his left hand lightly grasping Rhonda's right. Arnold and Rhonda had definitely planned this one out. Arnold's red dress shirt and white slacks, Rhonda's red dress and white gloves. If there was anyone who doubted who belonged to who, those people would be blind.

"I don't think we're the only ones." Rhonda stated as she looked up the stairs. Gerald followed Rhonda's gaze up the stairs to see Phoebe standing at the middle of the stairs, smiling at him. Her navy blue dress and black knee length socks visible from beneath the simple blue overcoat she wore.

"Sorry I'm late." She said in a sing-song voice.

Every visual detail didn't escape Gerald's vision as he took in the sight before him. He had never seen Phoebe wear such dark blue colors before; it seemed to match his own shirt. Her black socks matched his black slacks. Phoebe had no makeup on and no jewelry, but Gerald noted only briefly and he filed that in the back of his mind as Phoebe approached. _How did you know, girl?_ For a brief moment Phoebe and Gerald stood towards each other, words needing not to be conveyed between them as they looked into each others eyes.

"I see you're fashionably late." Rhonda stated, smiling at Phoebe. For her part Phoebe couldn't help but blush. Gerald reached over and took Phoebe's right hand into his left, and gave it a gentle squeeze. For Phoebe it must have been something of an experience to get such a compliment from Ms. Fashion herself. "Come, our table is ready." Rhonda continued, taking Arnold's hand in hers.

The group made their way around a few tables towards their own. Four menus were already sitting out with glasses of ice water, napkins, and silverware at each place. Arnold was first to the table, he walked to the chair that had Rhonda's black overcoat draped over the back, pulled it out from under the table, and gestured with a polite "after you."

Rhonda sat down in the chair and smiled at Arnold while he took his own chair and sat down to Rhonda's left. Gerald and Phoebe followed suit. Gerald paused for a second, considering which chair to offer Phoebe, and decided upon the one opposite Rhonda. He pulled the chair out nervously and gestured to Phoebe.

Arnold and Rhonda looked on with amusement as Gerald struggled to help Phoebe remove her overcoat. Once Gerald managed to remove Phoebe's overcoat and drape it over the back of her chair, Phoebe sat down quickly as Gerald helped her push the chair in. Gerald stole a chance to look around the table and remind himself to breathe before taking the last free chair, opposite of Arnold.

No sooner had they figured out their seating arrangement, the waiter, an older gentlemen with graying black hair, brown eyes and a tan complexion accented with the wrinkles of his age approached the table. "Would the four of you like to start off with drinks and an appetizer?" Rhonda was the first to pick up a menu and quickly flipped to the first page.

"I'll, uh, have a Yahoo cola please?" Gerald asked, stuttering a bit as the waiter jotted down the order.

"I'll have the same thing." Phoebe said automatically as the waiter looked at her. He wrote down her order and looked on towards Rhonda.

"Miss?" the waiter asked Rhonda as she intently studied the contents of the menu.

Rhonda looked up at the waiter. "Since we're all on the same page I'll have a Yahoo cola as well. We would also like an order of bread sticks."

"Yahoo cola." Arnold stated to the waiter, not intending to be the odd one out.

The waiter finished writing something on the ticket. "I'll be back with the bread sticks and your drinks." He stated, smiling, as he turned and walked away.

"So. Gerald. Phoebe." Rhonda wasted no time in taking charge of the conversation. "When, why, where, and most importantly, of course, how?" She asked, folding her hands neatly in front of her.

There was an awkward silence as Gerald froze completely. Phoebe finally chimed as she noted that Gerald was completely unresponsive "Last Sunday night. Big Al's. We ordered the same desert." She said, counting with her fingers for effect.

"What did the both of you order?" Rhonda pressed on.

"A strawberry milkshake. Since the both of us asked at the same time the waiter only brought one with two straws." Phoebe thought back, her eyes wandering as she relived the memory in her head. "It was just a coincidence."

Rhonda sat her elbows on the edge of the table and cradled her chin on the top of her hands. "It sounds like destiny to me." She said happily, looking at Phoebe and Gerald. Gerald stole a nervous glance in Phoebe's direction and she returned the glance, accentuated with a blush.

Arnold took serious note of Gerald's condition. _Man, I thought I had it bad on my first date with Rhonda. He's completely gone._

"Sharing a milkshake isn't a bad choice on a date." Rhonda continued, Phoebe listening intently. In Phoebe's mind she had her notepad and pen in hand, furiously taking notes.

The waiter returned with the drinks and a plate of bread sticks along with a stack of smaller plates. The first thing on the table was the plate of bread sticks. Then he placed the drinks down on the table, followed by the four plates, one for each place. "Is everyone ready to order?"

Rhonda spoke for everyone as she looked around and realized no one save herself had even picked up their menus, "we need a little more time to order."

"Take your time." The waiter stated as he walked away, empty serving tray in hand.

The four picked up their menus and started reading. Arnold tried to look at the Menu but found his attention drawn to his friend. Gerald had picked up his menu but had it upside down. He was flipping through the pages in frustration, trying to read them, but not having any luck. He was saved when Phoebe reached over and placed a hand on top of Gerald's menu. She gingerly picked the menu out of his hands, turned the menu around, and offered it to Gerald again. Gerald looked around and caught sight of Arnold's stare. He quickly hid his face behind the menu.

Deciding he had seen enough, Arnold decided to save Gerald. "Gerald."

Gerald looked over his menu quickly, almost startled. "Huh? What?"

"Let's step away for a second, okay?" Arnold asked, standing up. He turned to Rhonda. "If the waiter comes by, I'll have the fettuccine Alfredo and Gerald will have the same." At Rhonda's knowing smile and nod he walked around the table and made way for the bathrooms, Gerald following suit a few steps behind.

Once Gerald and Arnold were out of site, Rhonda got up and moved one chair over, sitting in Arnold's chair. "There we go. That seating arrangement didn't work."

Phoebe looked at Rhonda, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

Rhonda smiled at Phoebe. "Gerald was shutting down. I can't blame him. Two of the prettiest girls at H.S. 118 are sitting right beside him in an upscale restaurant. What's a guy to do?"

"Oh." Phoebe said, smiling. She looked in the direction that Arnold and Gerald had ventured.

"I know we're not really friends at school Phoebe. But I'm here to offer you any advice you need. Any of Arnold's friend's girlfriend's are a friend to me." She stated.

Phoebe nodded, then after a few moments responded. "Thank you for this."

"Oh, you're welcome. I usually don't get hit up for dating advice and this sounded like a lot of fun." Rhonda replied happily. "Besides, I owe Arnold a lot."

"You two are quite the couple at school." Phoebe reached down at her Yahoo cola and took a sip before continuing. "It seems like every day I hear some sort of new gossip about you two, and I'm not in the crowd that usually gets all the new gossip."

Rhonda considered her response carefully. "Don't worry about anything you tell me tonight, Phoebe. We'll call it doctor-patient privilege. I cross my heart." Rhonda made a slight gesture of tracing a cross over her chest. She looked around and leaned towards Phoebe, whispering. "Hey, wanna do something that'll cause Gerald to short some brain cells?"

At Phoebe's curious stare Rhonda leaned in closer and started whispering her plan with a hand to Phoebe's ear.. The Asian girl from Kentucky blushed, and then started giggling as she envisioned what such a statement would do to her boyfriend. Once Rhonda finished, she moved back to sit up in her seat, Phoebe still giggling. "Wait for my cue and then follow up, okay?"

"Waiting." Phoebe stated in between giggles, then made a half-hearted attempt to straighten up her attire as the waiter approached.

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"I am getting a serious case of tunnel vision." Gerald said while splashing his face with cold water from the bathroom sink to clear away the heavy feeling of anxiety weighing down his head. "I can't focus on Phoebe or anyone else."

"I was like that on my first date with Nadine." Arnold responded. "It was tough at first, I had to get it in my head that Nadine was there for me and that she was expecting me to act like myself for her. I had a similar problem on my first date with Rhonda, though for different reasons."

"That makes sense. In public Rhonda radiates hot, rich female." Gerald turned off the sink and reached for the paper towels.

Arnold could only nod and say "She does. She's Rhonda Lloyd."

"So what should I do man? I know you've asked me for advice a long time ago about this sort of thing when you were trying to hook up with Ruth MacDougal, but now it's my turn with Phoebe and I'm completely lost." Gerald finished dabbing his face dry with a paper towel. He nervously crumpled the paper towel into a tight wet mass and then pitched it in the nearest trashcan.

"Phoebe is here for you, Gerald." Arnold answered. "She should be your focus. Just act as yourself around her. And don't worry about what Rhonda thinks of you two. When she first heard about you and Phoebe the first thing she said was that it was about time you two hooked up. She's been talking to me about this date all week over the phone and when we went to the mall to shop for clothing. It's like a pet project for her."

Gerald took several deep breaths with his eyes closed. He exhaled one final deep breath. "I'm ready."

"Good!" Arnold exclaimed.

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"So you want to start off with the simple dates first." Rhonda continued, dipping a bread stick into a curious concoction of olive oil and balsamic vinegar that she had poured into the little plate in front of her. She nibbled on the bread stick a bit then continued. "Dinner and a movie is a safe date that you can't go wrong with. The more daring will substitute live theater for the movie, especially if the theater is performing something like Phantom of the Opera. Remember to be adventurous. You guys will figure out pretty quickly that there are a lot of potential dating spots throughout Hillwood."

Phoebe nodded. "So start out with dinner and a movie. Then start looking around for other places to try?"

Rhonda added. "Don't forget the live theater every now and then."

"How do I decide what movie to go to?"

Rhonda leaned in a bit. "This is important. Guys hate chick-flicks. It bores them to death. But they'll also go right along with it if it means they can spend several hours in a dark theater with a girl. Plus since they're bored by the movie they'll be at your beck and call the entire time."

"Excellent." Phoebe said, plans forming in her mind.

"Oh, and before I forget." Rhonda started as she reached into the top of her dress. "I pulled some favors at the movie theater and got these for you. She withdrew two movie tickets and offered them to Phoebe.

Phoebe took a moment to look at the tickets then her eyes lit up. "Never Been Kissed?"

Rhonda nodded. "There are no good romantic films out right now and I had to think of something pretty quick."

"But that movie came out in 1999!" Phoebe said, still looking at the tickets in her hands.

"You forget dear. My name is Rhonda Wellington Lloyd. I have connections. You'll find that those are the only two tickets sold for that showing. You have an entire theater to yourself." Rhonda took a bigger bite out of her bread stick.

"Thank you Rhonda." Phoebe said, putting the priceless tickets into her overcoat's inner pocket. "I owe you a lot."

"No you don't." Rhonda corrected.

Before Phoebe could come back with a suitable response, Gerald and Arnold returned to the table. Phoebe noted the determination in Gerald's face as he sat down in his chair. He immediately reached out with his right hand and clasped Phoebe's hand in his own. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before asking "Did we miss anything?"

Arnold responded. "Yeah, Rhonda changed the seating arrangements." He sat down in what had been Rhonda's chair, all the while smirking at her.

Rhonda gave Arnold a mischievous grin in response as she closed her eyes and crossed her arms. "I just had some things to talk with Phoebe about."

"Like what?" Arnold and Gerald asked in unison. Arnold reached to his soda and took a sip. Rhonda leaned in to whisper into his ear, at the same time snaking her right hand beneath the table and tracing an index finger up his leg. A fit of coughing ensued as Arnold found himself thankful he chose to sip his soda and not take big gulps. The boy blushed as he struggled to get the small amount of Yahoo Cola out of his windpipe.

Rhonda and Phoebe exchanged glances and started giggling.

"What just happened?" Gerald asked.

"I'll tell you then." Phoebe said then leaned over and whispered into Gerald's ear. Gerald was not one to blush, but there was a first time for everything.

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Snow was falling in gentle flurries as the group exited the Restaurant. Gerald was the first to exit, followed by Arnold. Phoebe and Rhonda exited together, giggling and whispering to each other as the pair stepped outside.

Gerald took a look around and turned to the group. "Oh man. More snow! I thought the weatherman said it was going to be clear tonight!"

"What channel? The channel four weatherman said snow." Arnold asked, stealing glances at the two girls whispering to each other. He silently hoped they weren't planning any other surprises. It was bad enough trying to sit through dinner, all the while knowing exactly what Rhonda was wearing under her dress.

"I need to stop watching channel two." Gerald said, then looked at Rhonda and Phoebe. "I hope you two aren't planning anymore surprises tonight."

"Oh," Phoebe kicked some snow around in front of her left foot as she looked down. She then looked up at Gerald. "I have a surprise for you Gerald." She said as she reached into her overcoat pocket and gently removed the movie tickets. "The movie starts in 30 minutes. We have a special showing." She put her hand out to Gerald,

Arnold gave a knowing look to his Girlfriend as Gerald approached Phoebe and gently reached out, pulling one of the tickets from her outstretched hand. He looked at the ticket then said, puzzled, "Never Been Kissed? Didn't that movie come out in 1999 or something?"

Phoebe nodded. "Rhonda got these for us."

"It's the least I can do to help you guys get your relationship started." Rhonda offered as she approached Arnold and took his arm in hers.

"Thank you." Gerald said as a limo pulled up to the curb in front of the restaurant. The driver exited and walked around to the rear passenger door. The driver opened the door and stood by.

"This is where Arnold and I exit." Rhonda said. "The theater is a few blocks west of here. Have fun you two." She then walked with Arnold towards the waiting Limo.

Phoebe wasted no time in taking Gerald's hand in hers. "Thank you Rhonda!"

"You're welcome." Rhonda waved. "See you at school. Let me know how the movie worked out." With that, Rhonda entered the Limo.

"Bye Phoebe, bye Gerald." Arnold said as a hand shot out of the Limo and pulled him in.

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"Did you tell Phoebe to tell Gerald what she was wearing?" Arnold queried of Rhonda as the limo pulled around the corner. Arnold was looking out the window while Rhonda leaned against his back, her elbows propped up against his shoulders, looking around him at the buildings going by.

"Of course." Rhonda said matter of factly. "I had to give him something to focus on. He was obviously very nervous."

Arnold sighed and closed his eyes. "Yes, but, underwear?"

"C'mon. It's not that bad of a mental image now, is it?" She said as she got closer to Arnold's ear so her breath would brush against it. This had the desired effect as Arnold closed his eyes, losing himself in the sensation of Rhonda pressing up against his back.

"The movie tickets were a nice touch." Arnold said after a few moments of silence.

"Thank you. I love getting to play Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, International Dating Agent." She said, chuckling to herself as she imagined standing in front of a posh office, a sign that said as much on the door. "I should get some business cards printed."

"You'd be good at it. Just don't tell people to mention their underwear on dates again." Arnold joked.

"Hey." Rhonda sat back in the seat and crossed her arms. "I did the same thing to you and it definitely changed your demeanor during dinner. I noticed you staring at me several times. Don't deny it."

Arnold blushed. "I don't deny it." He sat back in his seat. Rhonda leaned on him, which meant due to her height advantage she had to rest her cheek in his blond hair. She put her left arm behind him, resting it on his other shoulder, and sighed in content.

"I really hope it all works out with their parents." Rhonda said. She snuggled a little closer to Arnold and he leaned his head towards her.

"From what Gerald tells me his parents wouldn't mind. Phoebe is worried about what her father would think." Arnold offered.

"Gerald is good for Phoebe. Sometimes I swear when I see her she's always in Helga Pataki's shadow." Rhonda finished the sentence with a lower tone. "Sometimes the only reason I think she works for the school newspaper is because Helga told her to."

"I think Phoebe is a little more independent than you give her credit for." Arnold responded. "She's on a date with Gerald and her parent's think she's at a party with us. And Helga is nowhere near."

"I suppose that's true." Rhonda agreed as she idly brushed her left hand through Arnold's hair. "So where should we go now? We have the entire city and a limo to take us anywhere."

"Can we just drive around for a while?" Arnold said as he turned his head in Rhonda's direction. Rhonda picked her head up and looked down into Arnold's eyes.

Not another word was spoken between the pair as their lips met.

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"I wonder how Rhonda got those tickets." Gerald wondered aloud as he walked down the block with Phoebe's hand in his, their fingers tightly intertwined against the cold.

"She's Rhonda Lloyd." Phoebe answered.

"Well, that's as good an explanation as I'm going to get." Gerald conceded. "Arnold and Rhonda really pulled no punches with this double-date."

"Indeed." Phoebe agreed. "I hope we can do this again. In fact, I got a suggestion from Helga for another date. So I can add that to the suggestions we've been given."

"Helga gave you a dating suggestion?" Gerald asked. Somehow that phrase seemed odd, mostly because it had Helga's name in it.

They approached the intersection and stopped for the crossing light. Phoebe let go of Gerald's hand and turned to him. "Tomorrow we're going to an arcade, we're going to find a claw machine, and you're going to win me a teddy bear."

"I am?" Gerald asked. He smiled though as he imagined himself in front of the claw machine, Phoebe at his side as he deftly maneuvered the claw of the claw machine over to the biggest teddy bear in the bunch, and with no lack of skill successfully captured the stuffed bear. "That doesn't sound too bad at all. How many do you want?" Gerald asked.

Phoebe smiled back and had to turn around as she felt an overwhelming need to blush at the question. _How many? About a million?_ She thought to herself, then answered "One is fine."

The crosswalk signal changed and they proceeded to cross the intersection. Once on the other side, with the theater within sight, they joined hands again.

"So after this, we'll have to take the bus home. And this night will be over." Phoebe said.

"It's only half over Phoebe. We still have the movie." Gerald offered.

Gerald stopped, Phoebe turned around to face him. "What's wrong Gerald?"

A brief pause, then Gerald spoke, "But when you get off that the bus in front of your house the night will be over."

Phoebe nodded. "We'll have tomorrow."

"But we won't have tonight any longer." Gerald said as he looked into Phoebe's eyes. "There's something I've been waiting to do, and this is the only time tonight that we can really experience this." He stepped closer to Phoebe and ran his right hand through Phoebe's hair. Phoebe leaned her head into his hand and she closed her eyes, letting the sensation occupy her senses. Gerald withdrew his hand from her hair and gently pulled her Glasses from her face.

"Hey Girl." He whispered as Phoebe opened her blue eyes to Gerald.

"You're all blurry." Phoebe smiled.

"You look like an angel." Gerald responded.

Gerald leaned in and wrapped his right arm around Phoebe's waist as she moved her face up to his. He kept her glasses in his left hand, safely extended so as not to hurt them. In an instant that lasted a bit over a second but lasted for an eternity in the lovers mind, their lips met. At first the cold sensations of the others lips seemed the only sensation until the shared warmth started to take over. Phoebe let her lips part slightly while Gerald did the same. She wrapped both her arms around him as tightly as possible clasping her hands together behind his back securely so as to not lose contact at all. The intersection in the middle of downtown Hillwood seemed to disappear.

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Author's Corner

Wow! There's a lot of warm fuzzies in this chapter! I think Gerald and Phoebe deserve it, don't you?

The warm fuzzies won't last though. The next chapter is when I start introducing the plot twists. This chapter was the proverbial calm before the storm. Chapter 1 is merely building the framework to something bigger than Gerald or Phoebe could ever have imagined.

If you are trying to figure out why I paired Rhonda and Arnold together, then look no further than Lord Malachite's Instant Gratification story. I have a lot of freedom to work within the IG metaverse, but the time in which I set my story has Rhonda and Arnold paired together. So please keep in mind when reading that while I am exploring a dynamic between Rhonda and Arnold, the IG metaverse dictates they be paired together. You might find some things you like about that pairing, I know I do. Plus, it is so much gosh darn fun to write Rhonda's dialogue!

Now for some bad news. Chapter 2 is going to be delayed for more than two weeks. I will be on a much needed vacation from Saturday the 21st through Sunday the 29th. This literally eats up two good Sunday's worth of writing. I will try to do some work on the story through the week but Sunday's are my good days when it comes to fanfic writing. We'll see how it turns out. I just can't promise anything.

All questions, comments, criticisms, and other forms of verbal abuse should be directed at my e-mail address available in my profile, or in the review section. You may also contact me via IM. My screen name is "The Robonerd"

Portions of this chapter were powered by beer and Quiznos.

06/16/2008


	3. Hanging the Strands

A Precious Long While

Story by Pyrex Shards  
Pre-read by Lord Malachite

A/N: The last part of this chapter hints at sexual activity. There is nothing graphic, but it helps to set up for Helga's frame of mind going into the middle of her Junior year.

Chapter 2 – Hanging the Strands

_Oh no,  
I see,  
A spider web and its me in the middle,__  
So I twist,  
and turn,  
Here I am in my little bubble, _

_- Coldplay "Trouble"_

Helga Pataki absently scribbled various football shaped patterns on her notebook as her sixth period creative writing class dragged on. Before the class stood Lila Sawyer, reading the fruits of her class assignment aloud with much enthusiasm. There was enough honey and sugar in Lila's speech that Helga had no need to contemplate what Arnold had seen in her, what any boy would undoubtedly see, as the freckled southern belle read her report.

The football head wasn't alone. One quick glance around at the rag-tag class proved that. The boys sat with rapt attention as Lila spoke. Though they probably weren't really listening to what she said, they were more entranced by her silken southern voice as miss perfect slowly annunciated every word of her report. The girls feigned disinterest.

It helped Helga some whenever Arnold seemed to lose interest in Lila a few years ago. Arnold and Lila were school friends for a long time after the crazy adventures of their fourth grade year. But as the school years marched on along with Lila's circle of friends, or mindless admirers, as Helga preferred to call the group, Arnold slowly fell farther and farther out of that circle until he barely ever exchanged words with the country flower. There were of course the nods in the school halls and the polite hellos, but the remnants of whatever kind of friendship the two had drifted away long ago. Helga reveled in this, what had once been a bittersweet story was now not at all bitter for her, and had the potential to become so much sweeter.

Helga looked around at her notebook. She had started scribbling at the top. As she worked her way down page she allowed the patterns to become more lifelike. A curved line atop an oval, signifying the iconic hat of her beloved, became bracketed with more wistful lines curving outward as she focused more on the hair, pretending it to be a cornflower color. She dared not use colored pencils for that would give away too much. The class all chuckled almost in unison because Lila had stumbled over a hard word, that was as much as Helga could tell for she paid Lila no attention, only noting in the back of her mind that Lila was even talking.

Elementary gave way to Junior High, then to High School. The classes got larger and more institutional The Mr. Simmons and Miss Slovaks gave way to more impersonal instructors like her Creative Writing teacher, Mr. Conrad, who was currently leaning against the window seal and paying Lila rapt attention. He correctly considered Helga one of his best students, though Lila was another. It was obvious the man did not have any taste.

Inexplicably, Arnold showed up to school one day during their sophomore year with his arm around none other than the class bug girl, Nadine. Helga could remember in detail the many times she walked into the cafeteria and felt something icy stab her heart whenever she saw Nadine and Arnold flirting with each other over a slice of pizza. It was almost as if her locket had become a jagged chunk of dry ice freezing itself through to her heart.

She stole a look around the room to make sure no one was looking and tightly clutched at the locket through the fabric of her pink shirt. Helga had long ago ditched her trademark dress in favor of pink shirts and blue-jeans. She made it a point to buy shirts with high collars in order to hide the simple gold chain that held her locket near to her heart. Even the slightest appearance of the chain might make people ask questions that she dared not answer. She still wore a pink ribbon in her hair for it was her beacon to Arnold. Though the boy never noticed it, she would continue to wear it for him. The only other difference to her appearance was the way she let her bangs grow out from their old severe cut to a very feminine, very soft curl.

Helga had always hated the idea of Arnold and Lila. The very notion of losing to 'Little Miss Perfect' made her physically ill. But somehow, she had always felt that she could persevere against Lila. The redhead clearly had no interest in Arnold, despite all his attempts to woo her, and the two were slowly parting ways. But Arnold and Nadine...something about Nadine hurt her in a way she had never prepared for. For so long, Helga had focused on the devil she knew, only to realize that Arnold had now turned his attentions to a devil she didn't. It became clear to her why she felt such a heaviness in her heart when Arnold and Nadine had been together--Arnold clearly loved Nadine. Lila had been an annoyance, an obstacle, a speed bump to Helga's own love. But Nadine was the real thing. And for the first time since she had begun harboring feelings for the football-headed boy, she had no idea what to do about it.

Helga sunk even further into her memories as Lila read through the second page of her report. Last Summer was another bittersweet moment in time for Helga. Almost as soon as Nadine and Arnold had become an item, Nadine had pushed Arnold away. That was several months of bliss. It seemed as if the status quo would work in Helga's favor. Arnold would be without anyone to pine over. No Lila, no Nadine. She would have had a real chance if she could just get her act together. She could have finally told Arnold in so many ways just how much she really, truly loved him. He would have been more receptive given the state he was in. If she could just get the simple phrase out and into the open instead of spitting venomous insults at him.

_Oh Arnold. _Helga thought inwardly. _If only I could stop spinning the strands to my spider web long enough to tell you everything that I want you to know. I should have been there when bug girl dumped you, to pick you up and tell you everything that I needed you to hear. But alas, the strands of my web are thick with my cowardice. _Helga looked over her notebook. Most prominent was a spider web that seemed to entangle a stick figure that she had drawn. A stick figure with a symbolic bow and two unmistakable pigtails. She scowled at the paper. _And not an inch of room to write your precious name on this unworthy parchment. _Helga turned the page in her notebook and started writing Arnold's first name in the most elaborate flourish of calligraphy she could muster with a simple number two pencil.

Like all of her other chances with Arnold, the door that opened with Nadine's departure closed too quickly for Helga. The door closed in October courtesy of _Miss Rhonda Wellington Lloyd. Rich bitch. _Helga spat quietly at the paper. She scratched Rhonda's name on the paper in less than flattering penmanship, then bared down upon it with her pencil, causing the tip to break off as the line cut through the paper. She looked up to make sure no one had noticed before returning to her thoughts.

When Helga first saw Rhonda and Arnold holding hands two months ago, she realized that once again her chance was over. She couldn't unsee the image of Arnold getting off of the bus with Rhonda clinging lovingly to him. Though Arnold seemed apathetic at first to the way Rhonda flirtatiously teased him, it was the sight of the pair kissing that heralded Arnold giving himself to Rhonda. The image clung to the spider webs of Helga's internal prison. It wasn't quite an image, it was the biggest strand in a web of images and thoughts. It was the clearest image of all those for Helga had witnessed the event. Rounding a corner in the school hallways late one day after classes had finished, fantasizing about bumping into the object of her affections like so many times before, only to behold an image of her nightmares.

Rhonda had Arnold loosely pinned against the dull white-painted brick of the hallway with one arm palmed against the wall. Her other hand draped around Arnold's shoulders. Arnold's arms were wrapped around Rhonda's body so tightly that they tensed the fabric of her red designer shirt. Rhonda's head was turned at an angle so her hair obscured Helga's view of Arnold's face as the two pressed themselves against each other. Helga nearly lost her balance at the sight before her as she quickly dashed behind the corner in retreat and leaned back against the wall, tears flowing slowly from her eyes.

Helga closed her eyes and fought back the old tearful memories. She would not let the other students see her like this as she remembered sitting against the wall, school books resting against her lap, whispering to herself the question "is this my dead end football head?"

"And that concludes my report on plot devices!" Lila finished with a broad smile and a polite curtsy as teacher and class erupted in enthusiastic applause. The bell rang out. The change in her surroundings snapped Helga out of the web and into reality with a start as the biggest plot device of them all stole her moment of solitude out from under her seat. Of course the bell didn't help either.

"Criminey!" Helga exclaimed under breath while her brow furrowed into a scowl. She would have already had all her books under arm had she been paying attention. The final bell had come and students filled the hallway. The customary mad dash to be the first out of school commenced. This all slowed down to a crawl before Helga as the seconds became minutes.

Her route was carefully planned for this one moment in time each school day. Helga left her creative writing class like a cannonball, hitting the ground rolling. She made the short distance between the door of her class and to a connecting hallway, weaving between students and knocking into a few without apologizing. She pushed herself through the connecting hallway while ramming herself sideways through clumps of students then emerged into the larger main hall, or 'Red Hall' as the student body liked to call it because of its old scuffed brick-red floor.

She carefully picked her way through the students spilling from their rooms and stood a safe distance away from the west entrance while leaning back against the wall beside a water fountain. She had her arms wrapped around her books, hugging them to her. They moved with her chest as her breath slowly caught up with her. Her Alibi was that she was waiting for Phoebe. While true that Phoebe had the room on the other side of the wall opposite the fountain, and their lockers were nearby, Phoebe always elected to stay after class to discuss the finer points of the days lesson with her very enthusiastic history teacher. It didn't take much observing that first week for Helga to realize how perfectly coincidental the setup was.

Her motive, the most handsome motive in the entire school, was standing in the doorway of the west entrance with the daylight outside rubbing out the edges of his features so that they blended in with the light. Helga slowly lingered her gaze over the inviting masculine teen shape that she was carefully committing to memory. The rays of light washed through Arnold's hair and took on a blond color as they seemed to seek Helga out and travel into her eyes. At that moment the activity in the hallway would cease to matter. A feminine swoon would escape Helga's lips as her legs would threaten to give out and she allowed herself a brief but content smile. Her guardian angel, her life's muse, all of her girlhood fantasies neatly wrapped into an unblemished package, standing in the doorway, washed in the afternoon daylight. It was an image that Helga resigned herself to watch from afar. A brief moment in time that she savored again and again.

Though today was different...

_Where is it?_ She thought to herself in shock as she stared ahead of the crowd of busy students with their lockers open and speaking happily of the afternoon. Arnold stood in the doorway right on schedule with the familiar curves of his football shaped head silhouetted by the light behind him. This time however the silhouette seemed alien. It was as if Arnold had changed so profoundly that Helga stood for a moment not knowing whether to run or face this head on. This moment was finite for she quickly knew what Helga G. Pataki would always do in this situation.

Helga lowered her gaze to the floor and started pacing for a point marked by a chip in the floor that she had made with a screwdriver when no one was around. It was to let her know when to stop while trying to live a small yet unrealized fantasy of brushing into Arnold's shoulder as he walked by. Though today she hoped she wouldn't run into him. She finally spotted the unsightly chip in the floor and looked up at locker two-thirty. She made quick work of the combination lock, barely letting it click before she tore open the flimsy metal door, causing it to flex back and fourth as it slammed against the adjacent locker. She quickly rifled through the books of her plain unadorned locker, picking up a few, plus one she didn't know if she needed but didn't have the time to put back down. She yanked her purple coat off of the back hanger and slung it around her form in one fluid motion as she elbowed the locker shut. One quick spin of the combination lock and she was off towards the east entrance.

She pushed a few unlucky freshman girls into their lockers as she stormed by them. They yelped in surprise as their bodies hit the loose hinges with a clank and then a thud as the two hapless ninth graders toppled over each other. Once more the product of Helga's preschool experiences stalked out of its prison and into the light of for Helga had just hit her with the force of a thousand cornflower bathed suns. "Helga?!" She heard Phoebe query her name from behind as she stormed away but she resisted the temptation to turn around lest she see the alien again who had assumed some twisted form of the most perfect part of her very existence.

"Move it or lose it! Let's go people! Out of my way bucko!" Helga yelled as she pushed her way through the sea of students. The bus stop was behind her but she couldn't turn around. She'd go all the way around the school if she had to. She was desperate to protect herself from the image. That vile image. She pushed the doors open in full force and walked out into the chilled air.

The few tears that had just started to emerge from her moistening eyes felt cold. Helga kept walking away from the school. Damn the bus! She would not let anyone see her in this state. She did not build up her reputation as the terror of P.S. 118 only to give her High School adversaries more ammo against her. The sight of her tears would definitely ruin her tough girl image. She was a junior and she'd be damned if she let herself be a victim now. She'd walk all the way home that afternoon, avoiding those people most likely to know her, feeling the stab wound in her heart from that torturous distorted image of her beloved standing in the doorway of H.S. 118.

OoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

"Hey there." Gerald spoke softly as he turned from his locker to see Phoebe approaching from his left.

Phoebe beamed at Gerald. "Ohayo Gerald-kun!" She exclaimed in perfect Japanese.

"Ohayo, Phoebe, chan?" Gerald responded slowly, doing his best to follow along but unsure of exactly what he was saying. It didn't matter much because as he finished saying 'hello Phoebe' with the added 'chan' at the end Phoebe immediately latched on to Gerald and hugged him tightly.

The words brought the pair back to the Saturday two days before at Slaussen's Ice Cream. Phoebe sat in front of Gerald while enjoying an ice cream sundae. A small teddy bear sat in the chair beside her as she gave Gerald an impromptu course in Japanese. It was entirely on a whim that their conversation over the sundaes had shifted to the other language of the Asian American girl's multicultural heritage. Gerald did his very best to repeat the simple phrases after Phoebe had spoken them and told him roughly what they meant.

Phoebe had thought Gerald was just trying to make conversation. He was flirting with her during the entire lesson, as was his right as her boyfriend. But the fact that he had just said hello to her in Japanese and used the honorific indicative of her status as his girlfriend meant the best thing to do in that situation was to release him from the hug and say "you remembered that?"

"Of course Girl, why would I forget?" Gerald leaned forward and gave Phoebe a lingering kiss on her cheek, close to her right ear. "I have the cutest Japanese tutor in the world" He whispered, then stood back to take in the sight of Phoebe fighting to keep from leaning against the lockers.

"Why Thank you Gerald-kun. I am most pleased by your progress in the Japanese language." Phoebe let the sentence draw out slowly so Gerald could hear the pleasure in her voice.

Gerald was about to respond with another flirtatious remark to continue their little game when he noticed the concerned look in Phoebe's eyes. "What's wrong?"

"You didn't see Helga storm by here a few moments ago, did you?" Phoebe asked. She glanced around the crowd in hopes of spotting her pigtailed friend. But she gave up the search almost as quickly as it had begun.

"I did, actually. Hurricane Helga looked pretty pissed. She's not mad at you is she?" Gerald asked with his voice lowered to a soft whisper.

"I don't know. I walked out of my class and she was tearing into her locker. I called her name a few times but it's like she was ignoring me." Phoebe answered back quietly. "I'm worried. She's usually pretty happy and relaxed after sixth period. We always take the bus home together."

"Well, why don't you call her when you get home?" Gerald soothed. "If she's not mad at you, she'll talk to you, right?"

"Yes, I think I'll do that." Phoebe nodded politely.

"In the mean time," Gerald said as took Phoebe's hands in his, "I'll take you home today."

Phoebe momentarily forgot about Helga as she smiled back at Gerald.

"What are you two lovebirds whispering about?" Phoebe and Gerald both turned in surprise as Rhonda happily announced her presence to them. Arnold stood to her left. He had his blue backpack slung over his shoulders and Rhonda's books in his arms. His backpack clashed with his green shirt and flannel collar, but he didn't seem to care much, in contrast to Rhonda's designer clothing.

"Hey guys. Phoebe's worried about Helga." Gerald stated.

"Oh? I saw her storming off thataway." Rhonda chuckled and gestured towards the east end of the hall. "She's always been that way, throwing tantrums like that." Phoebe winced and lowered her head towards the locker. Rhonda noticed this and quickly added, "I'm sorry Phoebe, I know she's your friend."

"It's okay. I'm gonna call her tonight and see what's up." Phoebe quickly dismissed Rhonda's apology. Rhonda nodded back with a slight smile.

Then Gerald noticed something very different about Arnold. "Hey man, where's your cap?"

Arnold reached up and ran a hand through his hair. "Oh, that beat up old thing. It's in my backpack."

Gerald thought for a minute, then looked at Rhonda. "So you finally did it sister. Knocked his hat right off his head."

Rhonda brought a hand up to her chest. "Guilty as charged." She said in a sing-song voice.

"Rhonda told me I'd look good without it." Arnold added while moving his left arm around Rhonda's waist. Rhonda responded by leaning into Arnold's embrace. He continued. "I figured I'd try it out."

Rhonda looked at her boyfriend with a sly smile. "Now if I can only get you to change your outfit. A green shirt with red flannel?" She said while tugging at Arnold's collar.

"A red shirt with black pants and Caprinis. That is so last year." Arnold snapped back at his Girlfriend in mock imitation of her voice. He received a playful thump in the back of his head in return. "Hey!"

"I'll have you know that this year I'm wearing white turtlenecks in addition to my usual attire." Rhonda lightly massaged the back of Arnold's head with the palm of her hand where she had thumped it. "Whereas you haven't changed your outfit at all. Losing the hat was a big improvement."

"Calm down ladies." Gerald gestured at Rhonda and Arnold both. "We all know who has the best fashion sense around here, end of story."

"Mr. Thirty three?" Rhonda shot back, arms folded.

"And you know it girl. So, while we have that settled, Phoebe's going to join us on the way home." Gerald gestured to Phoebe.

"Don't you usually ride the bus home with Helga?" Arnold asked.

Phoebe looked at Arnold. "Yes. But for some reason Helga left pretty quickly. When I approached her locker she seemed preoccupied. I called after her but by that time she was already half way down the hall."

"I hope she's okay." Arnold mused.

"I'll call her when I get home." Phoebe nodded sadly.

"Well, are you guys ready?" Rhonda asked, breaking the conversation. "Our ride awaits."

"Limo?" Gerald asked with a raised eybrow.

"Rhonda has a chauffeur today." Arnold stated.

"Daddy wanted me at his office after school so he sent his personal assistant over with a company van. It's not high class but we have it to ourselves. He said I can drop you guys off." Rhonda explained.

"Why thank you Rhonda!" Phoebe said enthusiastically.

"Any time. Shall we?" Rhonda responded and linked Arnold's arm in hers as the group walked towards the west entrance of the main hall.

OoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

It was five-thirty-eight by the time Helga opened the door to her family's brownstone and sauntered in. She took care not make a sound. She'd be damned if she had to answer to anyone about why she chose to make a detour to her favorite pedestrian bridge overlooking the water of the nearby Tina park.

She slowly closed the front door behind her while holding down the door handle so it wouldn't click as it shut. Once the door was flush with the jam she gently released the handle. Helga deposited her coat on its hook and then tiptoed to the stairs. As she ascended the stairs though, the one voice she despised most of all bellowed from the living room. "Where do you think you're going little lady! Get back down here!"

Helga let out a frustrated breath. She placed her schoolbooks on a step then trotted down the stairs two steps at a time. She walked to the entrance of the trophy room and put her hands on her slight hips. Before her sat Big Bob, watching his favorite show. The wheel was spinning on the screen as the audience clapped incessantly through the tinny speaker of their large Purdyvision console TV. Bob didn't look up from the spinning wheel. "You're late."

"Yeah, so what's it to ya?" Helga spat back.

"Your mother's out with her girlfriends at the Mall downtown. You're making dinner tonight." Bob said flatly while not breaking his attention from the TV. "I want meatloaf and mashed potatoes."

Helga laughed back under her breath. "And why would I do that after you made dinner last night? Oh. Wait Bob. I forgot. You didn't make anything last night and Miriam was asleep."

Bob grumbled and hit a button on the remote. The Tivo logo popped into view on the screen along with a pause icon. He sat up in his recliner and turned around to face Helga. She had hit that one nerve in her balding, gray-haired father. For Bob Pataki to pause his favorite show and look at her, a flustered glint in his eye, and so soon after she arrived home, Helga knew she was already half-way there. "What did you say?"

"I said," Helga took a few steps towards the recliner, "I had cereal and toast last night because someone didn't make dinner even though it was their turn."

"I was busy." Bob dismissed.

"Watching the wheel. I know." Helga mocked. She brought her arms up and folded them in front of her chest.

Bob stood up from his chair and walked towards Helga. He stopped a foot-length in front of her and stared down at the teenager, seething in anger. "You're about three seconds away from a grounding little lady."

"I'm not little anymore Bob. Doi!" She looked up at him. While he was still taller, he no longer towered over his youngest daughter. Thanks to some very rapid growth spurts Helga could easily drill a smirk into his eyes without tilting her head up very much. "Or did you already forget that farce of a sweet-sixteen I had last March!"

"That's it! Go to your room now! If you're lucky I'll bring something up!" Bob yelled back.

Helga turned around and put her arms out dramatically while walking towards the staircase. "Oh please! Won't someone save me from the Spam and eggs!"

As Helga climbed the stairs, collecting her books along the way, the phone began to ring. She reached the top of the stairs and stopped. The phone rang again. She turned around and walked back down the stairs until she could see Bob in the trophy room below.

"Are you gonna get that?" Helga asked out loud. She stared at her father's back as the phone continued into it's third ring.

"The machine'll get it." Bob replied curtly as he sat in his recliner. "Don't bother me anymore Olga, go up to your room and stay there while I decide what to do with you." He gestured her away with his hand. The phone rang a fourth time.

Helga frowned. Working on her father's temper in order to get out of making dinner for his lazy ass was a feat, but very tiring. "The machine's on the fritz, and I'm Helga, dad... Hellllgaaa. You'd never punish Ollllgaaaa."

But Big Bob didn't say anything in reply. Helga watched as he sat down in his recliner and pressed a button on the remote. The action on the TV sprang back to life with the applause, the glittering wheel, and the coldly familiar four-tone jingle that haunted Helga's life ever since she could crawl. Her father's theme song.

Helga finished climbing the stairs and then walked to her room. Once inside she slammed the door shut and made for her bed. She sat down on the side of the bed with her hands in her lap and sighed in frustration while staring at the pink cordless phone on her nightstand. She reached for it in one swift motion and brought it up to her ear while thumbing the talk button. "Pataki residence. Big Bob's a busy man so make it snappy!"

"Helga?" Came the friendly, petite, yet worried voice over her phone.

"Hey Phoebs." Helga responded softly while letting the tension out of her breath as she fell back on her bed.

"Are you okay? You seemed pretty upset after school." Phoebe asked.

"No, I'm fine, I guess. At least I'm not making dinner for my poor excuse of a father. I'm grounded." Helga sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers..

She could almost hear Phoebe shaking her head over the phone. "I'm so sorry Helga."

"Hey, Big Bob'll forget by tomorrow. This is just a formality to him." She eyed her closet, wishing that she could get up and walk to it right then and there. "Besides. I can think of worse places right now."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Phoebe asked again with a worried, almost doting tone.

"Criminey! Yes, I'm okay!"

After Phoebe's quick "gomen nasai." Helga let her hand fall from her face and to the bed beside her.

She sighed. "Look. I'm sorry Phoebs. I shouldn't snap at you. I know you mean well. It must be my period."

After a brief pause, Phoebe responded. "Is this about ice cream?"

"What makes you say that? You know very well that I'm over ice cream." Helga said. She brought her hand up to her neck and slowly pulled at the gold chain under her collar until she had successfully removed the locket from under her shirt. She looked longingly at her favorite picture of Arnold while tracing the outline of his head with her thumb. That old fourth grade picture of him. So youthful... So perfect...

"Well, I saw ice cream without its blueberry topping today. It surprised me. I can only imagine what it would do to you if you never actually stopped liking it."

_Damnit Phoebe. Why do you have to figure this out so quickly?_ Helga thought. "Phoebe please. I said I'm over ice cream." She pleaded with Phoebe, her voice calm. "I have been since the fourth grade. I'm just, not feeling very well today that's all. Like I said, it must be my period. Let's just change the subject okay."

Helga could barely make out the breath that Phoebe let out over the speaker before the Asian American's sing-song voice uttered a very polite "changing."

"So," Helga began. "Tell me about your date on Saturday. Did you kiddos have fun?"

Phoebe cheered up at Helga's question. "It was wonderful Helga. Gerald won me a teddy bear at the arcade. He let me pick out what I wanted to do there and he didn't complain once. We went to Slaussen's and he let me teach him Japanese. He's such a gentleman..."

While Phoebe continued rambling enthusiastically about her date, only pausing every once in a while to take a slight breath, Helga thumbed open the locket. She slowly formed the words of the inscription with her lips. After she finished the silent prayer to her beloved, she brought the locket down to her chest and pressed it down over her heart, taking care not to bend the hinge. She idly followed Phoebe's sentences, the writer in her picking up the important words as Phoebe fed them to her ear softly over the handset.

"...and he said hi to me. In Japanese! Not only did he do that but he said 'chan' after my name. He really did pay attention to me on Saturday. Isn't that great Helga?"

"That's wonderful Phoebe..." Helga attempted to follow up with something else. A wish for a great relationship between the two. But she was too enamored by her own thoughts of doing those same things with Arnold. "So what are your plans for this weekend?" She slowly closed the locket and let it continue to lay over her heart.

"I don't know yet. I want to take Gerald somewhere but..." Phoebe stalled. Helga could almost here the indecision in Phoebe's voice as she continued. "...Helga. I... don't want you to think that since now I'm dating Gerald I'm going to shut you out of my life."

Helga sat up. "Whoah there Phoebs. Where did that come from?"

"Well. It's just that. You've been my best friend since forever, but now that Gerald is my boyfriend, I want to spend more time with him." Phoebe explained

"That doesn't mean we're going to stop poisoning the pigeons in Tina park. Well just do it less often." Helga half-chided over the phone to Phoebe while she scooted forward in her bed to let her feet touch the floor. In her heart she could already feel the increased distance between them that Phoebe had mentioned; not just where they were at the present time.

A soft chuckle met her ear, and Helga could tell Phoebe was smiling at the thought. "That's horrible Helga."

"Yeah, well, I hate birds. You know that." She said dismissively. She could imagine Phoebe nodding in agreement on the other end.

Another moment of silence as Helga loosely held the handset in her right hand while idly playing with the locket with her other. Phoebe broke the silence again. "Promise me something?"

"Hm?" Was all Helga could manage as her mind entertained thoughts of the complexity in their friendship now that Gerald was in the picture. Free Saturdays without Phoebe, after school bus rides alone, being a third wheel after being invited on an outing due to sympathy...

"If it seems like I'm shutting you out of my life, let me know. Okay?" Phoebe asked.

Helga sighed. She could only manage a meek response. "You know I'd never think that."

"It's important to me." Phoebe stressed. "Let me know."

"Okay. I will." Helga lied.

"Thank you. Are you sure you'll be okay? Will I see you at school tomorrow?" Phoebe asked finally.

"Of course. A little PMS never got 'ol Helga down before. I'll be there." She silently thanked Phoebe for allowing her to keep up her ruse of a feminine problem.

"Sayonara, Helga-chan." Phoebe responded enthusiastically.

"Bye Phoebs." Helga said. She waited for the click on the other end of the line before she placed the pink handset back on its charger.

OoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

The rest of the night went about as well as Helga expected. After she was sure her father had forgotten all about the grounding he had given her, she had tiptoed down the stairs and secured for herself a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich along with a tall glass of milk. _Dinner of champions!_ She mused with a slight curve to her lips after she finished the sandwich. The blue plate, empty save for a few stray breadcrumbs along with a half-empty clear glass of two-percent, sat beside her on the floor as she leaned back against her bed, legs crossed. Her English homework sat in her lap as she idly tapped the pen against the textbook while reading through the final few paragraphs of the lesson.

English and Creative Writing were easy A's for Helga. Spending her youth writing volumes of devotional to her muse had very tangible benefits for her future. She always made high marks in English and was easily one of the top English students in H.S. 118. Her teachers' only complaint were that she spent too much time on one subject.

Romance...

That Helga was a closet romantic didn't necessarily bother her English teachers, but Helga made them insist that they wouldn't share that with anyone else. She made sure to write 'anonymous' on any and all of her papers, no matter how insignificant they were, so dire her need to keep that secret. That her teachers saw the romantic side of her was something she had to bear. She resolved to pound anyone else who found out. Everyone except Phoebe of course.

At the last word of the last paragraph of the lesson Helga let out a slight sigh, closed the book, and sat it to her left. She picked up the glass of milk and finished it off in just a few gulps, sat it down on top of the plate, then glanced up at the clock on her night stand. Nine-seventeen at night. She stood up and stretched her arms and legs to relieve the tension. She frowned as a few joints popped and she could feel something snap into place along her spine. Cursed be her lack of exercise over the month. Of course the frigid temperatures outside didn't help her at all, for Helga was an outdoor sports kinda-gal. The recent weather prevented anything other than snowball fights and ice hockey if they were lucky enough to find a street with a busted water main.

She quietly bent down and picked up the blue plate, holding a hand over the glass to keep it from toppling over. Helga thought back to that wonderful game of ice-hockey she had managed to play in front of Sunset Arms back in the fourth grade. She let her mouth curl up at the happy memory, for she had come to an amazing conclusions that day. She admired Arnold's grandparents, and not just because they were the protectors of the one she had entrusted her livelyhood to. No, She admired them more because even in their old age they actually played ice-hockey along with Helga and her classmates. They treated Helga as an equal amongst her peers, especially Gertrude, also known as Pookie. To the rest of the kids she was just Helga G. Pataki, but to Pookie she was Eleanor Roosevelt, wife of the president.

A feeling of warmth washed over her when she remembered the barrel fire in the middle of the street that night. All of her classmates, the motley group of Sunset Arms boarders, Arnold's grandparents, and the love of her life all stood around a barrel that Phil had rolled around from the back of the building, basking in the warmth of the fire it contained. A truly magical moment. She remembered staring through the top of the fire at Arnold's eyes as he discussed the day's events with Gerald, and the way the light from the fire danced and sparkled in those beautiful green eyes as he smiled. If only he had, just once, looked her way and let her get lost in the inferno. _That wonderful inferno of compassion in your eyes, my love, my one and only._ She sat the dish and cup on her nightstand and then sat down on her bed.

Helga brought her hands up and tugged on her pink ribbon, letting the ribbon untie and let loose her pigtails into a small cascade of blonde down her back and onto her shoulders. She gently placed the ribbon on the nightstand by the cordless phone, then tugged at her collar to lift her shirt over her head. With no one looking, and no intent to care that night, she chucked the shirt at the floor. The cool air hit her stomach and tickled through her shoulder blades. She got up and walked to the full height mirror on the wall.

What she saw there disgusted her. A set of A-cups barely pushed out underneath the dull gray sports bra she opted to wear that morning. Slouched and bony shoulder blades held her chest in place to the rest of her form. Her white skin seemed tanless against the bra. A true moon tan. Her flat stomach, that could be an attractive sight to any schoolboy, seemed betrayed by what she considered to be a horrible belly button. There was a pierce mark there. The summer before she had purchased a little blue navel ring with a gold and pink butterfly to make up for what she felt was lacking, only to wear it once then leave it in her meager jewelry collection in disgust. The pierce mark seemed to laugh at her. She scowled at the sight.

There was no hourglass. _Yep, just enough hips to keep the pants on, _she thought as she unbuttoned her blue-jeans and slid them down. The only consolation were her legs, and she prayed that one day her beloved might be able to see them. Her minor athletic abilities allowed her to work them to a somewhat feminine shape. A pink, modest pair of panties wrapped around her body where her legs met her torso. She was disgusted by the sight before her. Why would any man, let alone Arnold, want her? Never in her life had she pretended to be beautiful, and truth be told, it wasn't really her desire. Beautiful just didn't seem to suit her. But she certainly never aspired to be so plain and unimpressive. _Just another bullet point I lost to Olga, _Helga thought, wishing that just once, she could be confident enough for Arnold to look her way and see something worth lingering on.

There were times when she would stand in front of the mirror at night, contemplating the feeling of Arnold walking up behind her, then wrapping those strong arms around her body in order to save her from the image she saw. She could imagine his forehead against the back of her head as she backed up into him and closed her eyes. The feeling of butterfly kisses against her shoulder blades and the warm air from his breath as he made his way to her neck, only pausing to move her bra strap with his finger so he could kiss the skin underneath.

She thought back to the time she had first discovered herself, imagining Arnold leading her from her mirror to her bed. She remembered the tension throughout her body as she started having intense thoughts about Arnold while she teased herself, then that incredible crescendo, and the pleasant release afterwards that washed over her body. Then Helga remembered the guilt over what she had done as she nervously pulled the sheets up against her chin and stared at the unadorned ceiling, feeling cold and alone, berating herself inwardly about how she had used Arnold for her own sexual desire.

She closed her eyes, damning those thoughts for tonight. She didn't want to think them even as she looked from her bed then to her closet. She chose the latter and walked to her closet.

Helga opened her closet door, walked in, and parted her clothing. She reached up for the light and pulled at the string to illuminate the space where her shrines of days gone by once stood, save for the one that briefly occupied the attic. The closet wall was now occupied by a shrine of a different sort. A literary shrine. A bookshelf with an impressive selection of books. She kneeled down not in reverence, but to get the wooden box that occupied the bottom portion of the shelf, roughly in the middle, surrounded by faux candles and pictures of her silent protector.

Helga sat down cross-legged with the box resting in her lap. It wasn't old or special. It was just a plain, undecorated cedar chest, the size of a cigar box with little brass hinges, that she had picked it up at a craft store for five bucks on clearance. As she opened it the scent of cedar greeted her nose as if to say it was still there protecting its charges. She made note of the contents to ensure they were all there, rooting around with her fingers. There was the lock of blond hair in a glass vial. Another vial contained a baby tooth. The rest of the contents were pictures and notes. Notes passed between two unsuspecting people in the sixth grade, one of them Arnold, that had been intercepted by Helga after being thrown away. She finally found the picture she wanted. It wasn't a clear picture of Arnold. This was a picture Helga secretly snapped with her disposable on a fifth grade field trip.

She gently removed the picture and then sat the box down on the hardwood floor between herself and the bookshelf. The subject of the picture was Arnold's hat while they were on the bus. Helga had tried to take a picture of the back of his head when a stray speed bump caused her to lurch forward the moment she snapped the picture. The photograph that resulted was not what she intended, yet she still treasured the result. A full on, larger than life, glossy three-by-five of Arnold's blue hat. She cradled the picture in her right hand while tracing the curve of the hat with her left. It seemed to hypnotize her, reminding her of the time the hat was in her possession. She had given it back to Arnold because she couldn't bear to keep it from him. Now, it was gone. A stray tear fell on the photograph as she sniffled. She realized what the salt of the tear would do to the picture and haphazardly wiped it away with her fingers. She brought the photograph up level with her eyes.

Helga let the tears come. She fisted her free hand then pressed her pouted lips into it, closing her eyes and letting out a whimper. The tears traveled down her cheeks and she could feel her nose running against the base of her index finger as she sobbed uncontrollably. Everything at once seemed to release into those hot tears. For the first time after seeing Arnold's changed form, Helga let herself cry, to release that emotional tension. To finally realize what was going to happen, or what could happen.

After her whimpering subsided to a slight sniffle, Helga quickly wiped the tears from her cheek and inhaled sharply to control her running nose. She gingerly placed the photograph back into the box, though propped up against the lid so she could see it. Leaning forward, she reached for the one book on the second shelf that had a pen clipped to it. Her current poetry book. It was the freshest of the bunch. It was bubblegum-pink with a red ribbon for a bookmark and without her calligraphy labeling along its spine.

She sat back, pulling at the ribbon until she could open the book to the latest blank page. She clicked the pen and the world faded around her as the poet took over.

_Dearest Arnold,_

Helga paused, letting the words collect themselves at her finger tips, and then let loose with a barrage of movements as she let the pen move against the paper.

_My love. My one and only muse. _

_There is an inferno of compassion in your eyes. If only you could look into my own eyes to see the smoldering fire in my heart that is choking on the black smoke of my despair; the need that I have for you to cleanse me with that flame. I want to see the spark in those eyes shine only for me. _

_But you are changing. I still see the flame in those emerald green eyes. They shine brighter than the sun I see as you walk into the door, bathed in its warm golden rays. Today I didn't see your eyes. They were betrayed. You let the sun blind me my love. Your cap is gone. That amazing blueberry-blue accent that is a very part of your existence to me. Gone..._

_Taken away... _

_I know you let that ebony-haired, red-shirted sorceress sing a siren song for you, to entice you into sacrificing your childhood anchor. But she doesn't know you. She'll never know you. I hope you see through her tricks. I want to tell you what a mistake you have made, my darling flaxen-haired angel. But I can't._

_For the first time in my pathetic life, I realize..._

_I really am going to lose you._

OoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

Author's Corner

Chapter 2 of APLW took longer than expected. I apologize. It would have taken even longer if it weren't for the piss-poor mood I was in when I wrote the ending. It was like I was in the twilight zone or something. The Saturday that I decided to finish this, I got a call from my credit union telling me that someone had used my check card to go on a $1,800 shopping spree at radio shack that morning. Which is interesting because I stayed home on Saturday and I still have the now-shredded card in my possession. Fortunately they caught it in time or I would have been in some serious financial crap heading into February. And with my birthday coming up that would have sucked. *sighs* What a wonderful world we live in.

I changed this chapter from its original form in favor of setting up Helga's situation in her Junior year. This is important because Helga's going to play a big role in APLQ. You already know this is a prequel to Instant Gratification, so this is also allowing me to set some backstory for Lord Malachite (which is absolutely awesome I might add).

I am a firm believer in finishing what I started so I'm not going to leave everyone hanging. I have the oneshots that I wanted to publish out and done with. Now I can focus on my longer stories, APLW and Bluebird. I hope to work on them in tandem. Time will tell if I can hold true to that. I've been doing a lot of planning for Bluebird, that Ananda sequel that I've mentioned before. I have a lot of written material and chapter 1 should be ready soon. The thing is I want bluebird to be perfect. I already know the key moments and I have a rough draft of the ending. I have point A and B, it's getting to point B that's gonna be the challenge.

Thank you for reading!


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